The Mysterious Stranger
by TehMarishal
Summary: A stranger shows up in town, one who can actually give Fonzie a run for his money...
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I first published this… I dunno, a couple of years ago or so. I took it down because I didn't think I'd ever finish it, but… darnit, this fic holds great sentimental value to me. And maybe by some miracle, I might finish it someday. So I decided to put it back, haha._

Richie Cunningham hurried down the side of the street, his brand new tennis shoes pounding a rhythm across the pavement as he went. His car had broken down and he was late for a date with Laurie-Beth. That was two Whammies against him, because on the one hand Laurie-Beth hated it when he was late, and on the other hand… he now didn't have a car to pick her up in.

_Oh boy,_ he thought to himself with a groan as he tried to run faster. _What a great time for it to break down._ Thankfully his car had broken down near Arnold's, so he only had a mile and a half to go. Nevertheless, going that distance could definitely take a toll on the body. _It's okay, it's okay,_ he tried to console himself as he gritted his teeth. _Just tell her why you're late and she'll understand._ One of the many things he loved about Laurie-Beth was that she was a reasonable woman. She hated it when he was late, but she would understand that the car conking out was not his fault.

_I'll just ask Fonzie to tow it back to the shop later,_ he decided, though right now that was the least of his concerns.

Suddenly, something appeared just in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere. Another individual appeared, apparently having been running along the same side of the road as him, only from the opposite direction. The two of them collided and fell onto the ground in a tangle of limbs. Richie groaned and hissed in pain; somehow it felt as though he'd hit a truck.

Okay, maybe not quite _that _bad, but two people running toward each other and then colliding was not a pleasant experience.

"Ow," Richie breathed as he attempted to retrieve his limbs. He could tell the other individual was doing the same, and a few moments later the two of them were climbing to their feet.

Then they stared at each other. Richie saw that the other person was just a few inches shorter than him, dressed in a long black trench coat, a dark gray cap that covered the person's entire scalp, and a pair of sunglasses that hid the stranger's face to some degree. The individual was also wearing a pair of snug-fitting blue jeans and a pair of black books.

If he hadn't been in such a hurry or feeling quite so peeved, Richie might have questioned the mysterious figure's appearance a bit more. But right at this moment, he almost couldn't care less. "Um, sorry," he said automatically, being the nice guy he always was. "But I gotta go. No hard feelings, right?" He reached over to give the stranger a slight pat on the shoulder, and then he turned on his heel to resume running.

What he did not see behind him was that the stranger was looking around at the ground after Richie ran off. The stranger walked in a slow circle, searching every inch of the pavement visually, and then turned to look in the direction that Richie had gone.

The stranger then took off in pursuit.

"I wonder where Richie is," Pottsie commented as he took a long sip from his milkshake. He and Ralph Malph were seated in their usual spots in Arnold's place.

Ralph, however, was not paying much attention. He was too busy staring at the pretty blond on the other side of the room. He also had not noticed that his ice cream sundae was beginning to melt.

Pottsie grinned. "Why don't you go over there and say hello?" he asked.

Ralph grinned. "I think I will." He got up and strutted over to the girl in his usual fashion, ready to win her over with his charm-if telling jokes and acting goofy could truly be considered "charm".

He returned to the table two minutes later, plunking himself down next to Pottsie.

Pottsie finished his milkshake, and then pretended that he hadn't been watching. "What happened?" he asked.

Malph glanced down at the whipped cream and pie crust that covered the front of his shirt. He then looked over at his friend and grinned. "I think she likes me," he answered.

Pottsie grinned in return and shook his head. "I'm guessing that's why she plastered a lemon cream pie all over your new shirt."

"She just wanted to share," Ralph said.

Any further conversation was interrupted when Richie came stumbling in through the door. His eyes were wide, his hair was a mess, and he seemed to be mostly out of breath. "Some-someone is after me," Richie managed to gasp out between pants. "I got-gotta-hide!" Without any further words or explanation, Richie looked around as though looking for someplace to hide, and then he made a dash toward the men's restroom. He staggered a couple of times and then fell flat on his face, but he managed to make it through one of the restroom doors.

"Hey, Richie! That's the girl's restroom!" Pottsie shouted.

This was quickly accompanied by a high-pitched, feminine scream. Pottsie and Ralph sprang from their seats and dashed toward the bathrooms just as Richie staggered out of the girl's bathroom, looking a bit stunned and pale.

"Gee, what would Laurie-Beth say if she knew you wanted to sneak a peek on other girls?" Ralph joked unhelpfully. The pie on his shirt began to slide down a bit, pieces of it landing on his shoes.

Richie grimanced. "Gotta… get to-other bathroom." Pottsie and Ralph each took one of Richie's arms and assisted him into the men's restroom, seeing how exhausted he was.

"C'mon, Richie, what's going on?" Pottsie asked, once they were safely inside the correct bathroom and the main door had closed. Thankfully it was unoccupied at the moment.

Richie was so breathless and worked up that he could not get any words out. So his friends decided that it would be best if he sat down. "Need-water," Richie stammered. So Pottsie turned on the faucet at the sink and Ralph helped Richie over to it, putting his friends' face under the water. A lot of it went up Richie's nose, but he got enough of it into his mouth to make a difference.

After that, Pottsie helpfully put the lid down on the toilet within one of the stalls and Ralph assisted Richie over to it so that he could sit down on it like a chair. "There you go," Ralph encouraged. "Just come up for air now. Nice, deep breaths."

When Richie finally caught his breath and calmed down enough to talk, he noticed that he had pie crust and whipped cream on his shirt.

"Hey we got you a drink," Ralph shrugged. "We figured we might as well share a snack with you too." He grinned.

"Look," Richie said, "there's someone after me. I don't know why, I think I made him mad or something when we collided on the street. But he runs really fast and he's really strong. It was all I could do to lose him!" He pointed to a large rip in is sleeve indicatively.

Indeed, now that Ralph and Pottsie looked at their friend more closely, it did look like he'd been in a rumble. Richie had a light bruise on his left cheekbone, his hair was a mess, and his clothes were tattered and torn in a few areas. It looked like he'd been in a scuffle and had gotten the worst end of the deal. He didn't seem particularly injured, but he did look like someone who'd been running for his life.

"Who was it, Rich?" Pottsie asked in all seriousness.

"I don't know, I don't think I've ever seen him before," Richie answered with a wary sigh. "My car broke down so I was trying to get here on foot. We ran into each other, I apologized and then I continued running. But then he ran after me and attacked me from behind. It was all I could do to lose him by running through other people's yards and hopping over their fences. I last left him in front of someone's house when a big, mean dog started to run after him as he came after me. That's the only reason I got away at all." Having finished his explanation/rant, Richie paused and took a deep breath.

"Wow," Ralph said.

"What did he look like?" Pottsie asked.

"Was he bigger than you?" Ralph inquired.

"No, he was… well, about my size, maybe a little shorter," Richie said. "He was wearing a coat and a cap and a pair of sunglasses-I couldn't see his face, and he never even said anything. He just… seemed like he really wanted to beat me up for running into him."

"You don't think he followed you here, do you?" Ralph asked, starting to look nervous.

"I'll check," Pottsie volunteered, moving toward the door to peer out. A moment later he returned to his friends and said, "All clear on the western front."

"Ugh, this is just a lousy day," Richie groaned, pressing his face into his hands. "First my car breaks down, then I'm late for a date with Laurie-Beth, now there's some creep chasing me." He grimanced. "Oh… Laurie-Beth." He looked at both of his friends. "Is she here?"

They shook their heads in unison. "She called a little while ago," Ralph said. "She said she stayed home because she has the flu. She said to tell you she's very sorry."

A small look of relief flashed across Richie's face. "Oh… that's wonderful," he said. "I mean, not wonderful that she has the flu, but wonderful that I didn't miss our date." He made a small mental note to go visit her later-after this mess was settled.

"So what are you gonna do, Rich?" Pottsie asked. "You can't stay in here all day."

"I don't know." Richie stood and moved out of the stall, beginning to pace in front of the sink. "I just wish I knew why he was after me! All I did was run into him, but he ran into me too!"

"Maybe he feels he has some score to settle," Pottsie suggested.

The door suddenly cracked open and Al's nose poked through, followed closely by the rest of his face. "Hey, Richie," the restaurant-owner announced, "there's someone out here who's looking for you."

Richie blinked, instantly going tense. "Does he have a gray cap, sunglasses, and a long black trench coat?" he asked.

Al nodded. "That's him."

Richie dove back into the bathroom stall. "Don't tell him I'm in here!" He slammed the door on the stall shut and locked it.

"If he insists on seeing Richie, tell him he's busy," Pottsie suggested.

"Yeah, when you gotta go, you gotta _go,_" Ralph said gleefully.

"Alright," Al agreed with a nod. "This young man out here is very strange," he remarked. "He didn't even ask me anything verbally. He simply handed me a note with a general description of Richie." He shook his head and then ducked out.

Pottsie and Ralph moved closer to the stall that Richie was in, wearing grave expressions. "Sounds like you're in big trouble, Rich," Ralph said.

"Yeah," Pottsie agreed. "Where's Fonzie when you need him?"

As if on cue, the bathroom door suddenly opened and the dark-haired, leather-jacket wearing man entered the room. He had a kind of bewildered expression on his face, which then turned into a mix of curiosity and annoyance when he noticed Ralph and Pottsie staring at one of the stall doors.

"What are you two doing?" Fonzie asked bluntly.

"We're trying to help Richie," Pottsie answered quickly, timidly.

"Yeah," Ralph supplied. "He's in there right now," he added, indicating the stall before them.

Fonzie blinked. "If Richie is in there with the door closed," he stated, "then what needs most right now is privacy." He jerked a thumb in the direction of the door. "You two, _out._ I wanna talk to Richie."

Pottsie was out the door almost immediately, but Ralph hesitated right at the door. "But there's somebody out there," he whimpered.

Fonzie jerked his hand again, in a _Get out and I won't tell you again_ kind of gesture. Ralph vanished.

Then Fonzie checked the other stalls surrounding the one that Richie was in to make certain the coast was clear. Then he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, pacing slightly as he talked out loud. "Richie, something strange is going on here. I came in, and it's like somebody else is competing for my cool or something, you know? This guy is walking around like he owns the place, and everybody is steering clear of him. He sat down at one of the tables, and everybody in the surrounding tables scurried on out or moved to other tables."

He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment, and then turned around and leaned against the sink, folding his arms across his chest. "It's moments like this when the world don't make sense," he went on. He placed his hands on his chest as he said, "Hardly anyone seemed to notice _the Fonz."_

Richie opened the bathroom stall and came out. He would have been out sooner, but he simply figured that while he was in there, he might as well use the facilities while he had a chance. "Yeah, I know all about this guy Fonz," he said as he moved toward one of the sinks to wash his hands. "He chased me around the neighborhood after we ran into each other on the side walk."

"You know this guy?" Fonz asked.

"Not really," Richie said, and then he told Fonzie everything that he had told Ralph and Pottsie before.

"So," Fonzie said once he'd finished, "not only is this guy competing with me for my cool, he's after my friend." He straightened and moved away from the sink. "I'm gonna have to do something about this before it gets out of hand," he said, and moved toward the door,

"Fonz, wait!" Richie exclaimed as he dried his hands. "This guy is _really_ tough. You wouldn't believe what I saw him do while he was chasing him!"

"This guy may be tough," Fonzie said, "but he hasn't met the _Fonz_ yet." With that, Fonzie opened the door and stepped out, following by a somewhat hesitant Richie.

Fonzie moved briskly out of the men's bathroom and past the pinball machine, his tough cool-guy demeanor in full bloom. Richie followed behind him almost like a shadow, in more ways than one. "That's him over there," Richie whispered, pointing unnecessarily in the direction of the mysterious figure.

Fonzie paused. "Yeah, I see him," he said simply.

Indeed, the mysterious stranger-who was still clad in his long black coat, gray cap and large sunglasses-sat in the far corner. All of the nearby tables and chairs were empty, as if everyone was giving this guy a wide berth. After a moment, a waitress tentatively approached him and seemed to ask if he wanted anything. He shook his head, and then his gaze turned in the direction of Richie and Fonzie.

In spite of the sunglasses concealing his eyes, somehow it seemed as though his gaze locked right onto Richard Cunningham. And that's when he rose rather abruptly from his seat, as though he'd been waiting for him to make an appearance.

"Oh boy…" Richie, despite being just a little taller than his friend, somehow always managed to find a way to hide behind him when he really wanted to. And this was one of those instances where he wanted to.

Fonzie folded his arms across his chest as the stranger came toward them both. The stranger did not move too quickly nor too slowly; he seemed to move in a matter-of-fact way. Soon, he was face to face and toe to toe with the Fonz, mostly because the stranger did not stop until the Fonz stepped forward and positioned himself directly in the stranger's path.

They both stared into each other's eyes, unflinching. Fonzie's dark brown eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "You got a problem with my friend?" he asked. Everything about his stance, expression and tone of voice seemed to communicate one thing: _Unless you got a death wish, you'd better back off._

The stranger cocked his head slightly to one side. He then raised his hand and made a slight _move aside_ gesture.

"I'm gonna tell you something right now," Fonzie grated through clenched teeth, grabbing the man by the front of his coat, "when the Fonz asks you a question, you better answer. Now you've got one more chance."

What happened next surprised everyone who was watching, but it didn't surprise anyone more than Fonzie himself. The stranger's arm moved in a blur, knocking Fonzie's arm aside and then sending Fonzie crashing into the pinball machine.

Richie stared in complete shock as he saw his friend fall to the floor. He was still staring with widened eyes and a dropped jaw as the stranger suddenly grabbed him roughly by the arm and began to escort him roughly toward the exit.

Fonzie was up again a few moments later, just as the stranger was about to exit the building with Richie. Fonzie inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, mentally ordering his protesting muscles to suck it up. The pain immediately left his body; his muscles were tough and they wouldn't let a little thing like pain stop them.

A few short moments later, the Fonz was out the door, in pursuit of the person who was taking his best friend. Everyone in Arnold's stared after him, knowing that the wrath of the Fonzarelli was about to be unleashed.

Several individuals-including Ralph and Pottsie-exchanged glances. Then they started a small betting pool and began to hurry out the door so that they wouldn't miss the action.


	2. Chapter 2

Richie had no idea what was going on anymore. It seemed like the entire day had gone out of whack and turned inside-out. And it had all started when his damn car broke down. Now he was being pulled down the street by a stranger who had an iron grip on his arm, and he had no idea where they were going or why.

To make matters worse, he started to feel an itch on the back of his neck. He instinctively reached up to scratch it, but the stranger hissed at him and slapped his hand back down.

Finally they came to an alley and ducked inside. The stranger pointed a stern finger at the ground, firmly indicating Richie to sit down. Not wanting to get into any more trouble-or anger the one person he'd seen toss the Fonz aside back at Arnold's-he complied. It didn't really matter all that much if he got his pants wet or dirty; that was the least of his worries right now.

"Alright, so we're here," Richie said, looking up at the stranger as he towered over him. "What do you want?"

The stranger held up his hands in a gesture that seemed to imply, _stay still._ "You want me to keep still," Richie murmured to himself. "Yeah okay, I'll just sit here and keep still. But why? What are you gonna do?" Cunningham sat stiffly, tensely, half-convinced that the stranger was going to rearrange his face any minute.

However, the strange did no such thing. He simply stooped down cautiously beside Richie, alert, as though he feared that Richie might do something. Like what? Punch him or try to make a run for it? Richie wasn't that stupid. Anybody who could throw the Fonz around and walk out of Arnold's in one piece wasn't a person to mess around with.

The itch on the back of Richard's neck persisted, and if anything it got even more annoying. It felt like a large mosquito was biting him. Without thinking, he once again raised his hand to slap at the area or at least scratch it, but the stranger grabbed his hand and lowered it.

Then the stranger leaned over to peer at the back of Richie's head or neck, as if looking at whatever was causing the discomfort. He made a little nod to himself, as though he'd found something he'd been looking for. He matter-of-factly reached over and then Richie grunted as he felt a small prick of pain, as though a needle had been plucked out of his skin.

"Hey, what was that?" he asked in spite of himself. He then looked to see the stranger looking at something, the thing that he'd apparently plucked from Richie's neck. It looked like a small… robotic insect? It's silvery metallic surface shone in what little sunlight there was within the alley, and it had a spherical shape along with a number of tiny legs. It was very small, and fit easily within the stranger's smaller hand.

The stranger said nothing. He simply put the item he'd retrieved into his pocket, and then looked squarely into Richard's eyes. They were both on the ground, with Richie sitting on the dirty alley floor and the stranger kneeling before them. They were both roughly eye-level now, and the stranger made a slight movement as if getting ready to rise.

Before he could stand up, however, Fonzie appeared. The Fonz had a harried look about him, like he was pissed off and had been hurrying through the neighborhood in a frantic search. Now his eyes zeroed in on Richie and the stranger like homing beacons ready to launch an attack. He appeared behind the stranger, and so Richie was the one who saw him first.

Fonzie acted quickly. He came up behind the stranger and grabbed him by the collar of his coat, whirling him around to face him. Then Fonzie's fist connected solidly with the stranger's chin with a very satisfying _thwack, _sending the man crashing to the floor a few feet away.

"You alright?" Fonzie asked, assisting Richie to his feet.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Richie said. "He didn't hurt me or anything, Fonz-it seemed like he just wanted this metal bug that was crawling on my neck."

"Metal bug?" Fonzie echoed. "A metal bug? Eh, never mind. I've still got a score to settle with this guy; nobody does that to the Fonz and just walks away!" He stepped toward the fallen figure on the ground, who was just starting to stir.

"Alright," Fonzie said, reaching down and pulling the stranger up by the back of the coat, "you had enough, or shall we continue where we left off? 'Cuz you know, it was so rude the way you walked out before I was finished with you."

The stranger slipped out of his coat, staggering a little on the ground. Fonzie matter-of-factly tossed it aside and took a step forward. However, when the stranger whirled around to face him, what Fonzie saw caused him to stop dead in his tracks.

The sunglasses had apparently fallen off when the stranger had hit the ground. Now that the stranger was no longer wearing the coat, it revealed the person's waist and hips more, and the snug-fitting shirt made one thing especially clear; this was no man.

_She_ stood before them now, a young woman in her early twenties. A nasty bruise was beginning to form on her chin where Fonzie had punched her. Her face was, however, a mask of calm, although her eyes held a serious, almost outraged expression.

Fonzie took three steps back and placed a hand over his heart, his breathing becoming more rapid. "Richie," he gasped, "tell me I didn't just hit a girl."

"Looks like you hit a girl, Fonz," Rich breathed, his eyes growing wide.

"I asked you not to tell me that!" Fonzie practically wheezed. "I need… I need to sit down!" He turned and rushed out of the alley, leaning heavily on the wall just outside. "The world has just gone nutso," he proclaimed. "The Fonz has hit a girl… after she hit the Fonz! Whhhooaaaa…." He thumped his head against the brick wall. Hard.


End file.
